


Forever Lost

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Uliro Week 2017, it's going to kill me y'all, shulaz, slight medical tmi, uliro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: Shiro’s memories are broken at best. There is so much he doesn’t remember. Ulaz’s memories are still in tact, but they can never be Shiro’s.





	Forever Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Uliro Week Day 2 - Dreams/Memories  
> This week is going to be the death of me, I swear. I have oldmythos and paladin-pile to thank for getting me through this piece. Thank you for reading!

Ulaz focuses on his work intently, using a tool Shiro has likened to a space screwdriver to work open the panels of his prosthetic to get to the tiny nerve switch. They’ve done this on a regular basis since his recovery at the Blade headquarters had started. Every time, Shiro meets it with equal parts fascination and repulsion. Sometimes he watches Ulaz’s hands, sometimes he stares at some nondescript part of the wall. Ulaz always lets Shiro decide if he wants to talk, some of these maintenance sessions filled with distracting conversation, others silent save the hum of Ulaz’s work lights. Ulaz feels the telling flinch when he disconnects the nerves from the arm, and he gives Shiro the span of a deep breath to pull it away and set it on his table. The tool is put down with it, and he sets to examining the flesh and scars at the connection point. He’s pleased to see them more as they should be instead of the angry colors and infected scents that brought back things he’d rather not think about. There had been little time for care since Shiro’s escape, and it had almost caught up with him for the worse. As it was, it hadn’t been good.

_ “You are a disgrace.”  _

_ Ulaz shoved the lousy excuse for a medic aside, glad for the mask that covered his nose and mouth. If the Champion looked this bad, Ulaz could only imagine how he  _ smelled _. His high engineer garb marked him as well as any soldier’s armor. The nearby grunt guards and other medics stepped aside to let him through.  _

_ “We’ve sedated him. He’s gone mad,” one of them said, voice tinged with panic.  _

_ One look at the discolored stump on the Champion’s right side told Ulaz all he needed to know. This wasn’t good. His prosthetic was days from being finished, the quintessence triggers nowhere near calibrated for a fitting. But if Ulaz didn’t act, there wouldn’t be an arm to fit it to. There wouldn’t be a Champion. _

_ “No wonder he has gone mad. He is septic. Stand aside, I will take him to the lab myself. Find yourself another contender for the match tonight. The druids will have your flesh if you have let him sit infected for too long.”  _

_ The medics scrambled. _

“Ulaz?”

“You are doing much better,” Ulaz replies before Shiro can even follow-up with a question. “I will need to change the compression sleeve, and you will be ready for the day.”

“Won’t you tell me?” Shiro asks. “I don’t remember how I got this way.”

It clenches something in Ulaz’s chest, a band around his ribs. How, in all the time they’ve been together, this hasn’t come up before now is beyond him. Now that it has, he realizes how lucky he’s been, and that luck has just run out. It’s been his policy to be honest with Shiro. After all that the Galra have done, his own hands sullied in that mix, he knows that the direct truth is worlds better than being caught in a white lie later. There’s already so much tension and risk-taking between the paladins, the Alteans and the Blade. To say nothing of what Shiro has come to mean to him. Devastating. Even that word pales in comparison to the horrors Shiro suffered in the pit dungeons of the Arena, and yet when any words at all try to lay on Ulaz’s tongue, he just can’t say them.

“No, Shiro.” 

Shiro’s head whips over to Ulaz, his surprise at refusal very clear in his expression. “Why not?” Only Ulaz’s steady hand on Shiro’s shoulder keep him from wrenching the compression bandage. “I know you know. You were  _ there _ .”

Ulaz manages not to flinch.

_ “Let me see him.” _

_ “With all due respect, Commander, it has taken quite a bit to stabilize him. Besides, it is a little late for you to show your concern now, don’t you think? Had he waited for his ‘patron’, he would already be dead.” _

_ Ulaz’s back hit the nearest wall faster than he could deflect the hand on his chest. His breath rushed out of him, Sendak pinning him with one hand, snarling. Ulaz forgot how quickly Sendak moved despite his mass and heavy armor. A rational part of his mind told him he should probably watch his step with Zarkon’s pet soldier, but he could hardly be fussed now. He’d come too far for that. _

_ “You forget your place, Ulaz. You dare to question my concerns when I have a job to do, same as you. He had an arm when I left him.” _

_ “His most recent opponent took care of that for you. And what it did not, those miserable excuses for medics tried to finish with their incompetence. Unhand me, please, Commander Sendak. He is under the jurisdiction of the druids now. I could summon Haggar to meet with you, if you like.”  _

_ Lieutenant Haxus reached out and touched Sendak’s shoulder. He said nothing. _

_ The pressure on Ulaz’s chest vanished. Sendak’s eyes narrowed, but he saluted with perfect posture. “Vrepit sa.” _

_ He didn’t wait for Ulaz to return the gesture before turning and heading back to his ship. _

Ulaz takes a deep breath to steady himself, but he continues his work as if they’re talking about Vex’s newest information breach and not how Shiro lost his arm. Paying special attention to the bandages and sleeve is a good reason not to look into Shiro’s infuriated face. Rarely does he lose his temper, but having it focused on him upsets Ulaz. Shiro has every reason to be angry, but Ulaz has every reason not to give him what he’s asking for.

“My memories are not yours, Shiro,” Ulaz says with all the calm he can muster. “They can never be yours. Whatever I tell you will be tainted by eyes that did not see what you would have seen, by sounds and textures and hurts that I cannot know. Whatever words I say, your mind will construct a memory around them that will never be right. There is a reason you don’t remember them yet. Let them remain buried until your mind clears the debris covering them.” 

“I’m tired of waiting!” Shiro’s face is contorted, red. 

Ulaz is used to seeing a flush under his skin, but he doesn’t like where this is going, how it tastes in the air around him, how Shiro’s anger and fear make it hard to breathe. 

“It’s been, I dunno, weeks... _ months _ since you freed me from Zarkon’s ship! All I get are bits and pieces that make no sense! They come and go when they please, and I know it was bad. I’ve seen myself in the mirror, I’ve remembered some of the monsters I’ve fought. Don’t I deserve to know?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Then  _ tell me _ !”

“No.”

_ Ulaz had used his deepest sedative and still the Champion fought. The bindings on the table were as tight as they could go without jeopardizing his blood flow. There were some things Ulaz couldn’t risk during the fusion. The prosthetic was beautiful, in his opinion. Articulate, sleek, one of his best yet, and it had fit perfectly. The nerve ports connected easily and already the fingers twitched while the Champion’s body adjusted to the bond. If he made it through the quintant without a fever spike or heart failure, he would leave the table stronger for his suffering. It was surely of little consolation to someone who had already endured so much, but to Ulaz it was something. He still had hope.  _

_ His ears flicked at the sound of the metal doors sliding open. Ulaz expected Sendak, but his visitor was far worse. The fur on the back of his neck prickled, he put his hands behind his back and bowed, feeling his claws digging into his palms. “Haggar,” he greeted respectfully. _

_ “Your work here is finished. It is my turn to see to the Champion.” _

_ Ulaz opened his mouth and her stare cut his words off at the throat. He closed it again and nodded. “I will return to check his vitals when you are finished with your work.” _

_ Haggar gave a single nod in return. Ulaz felt the crackle of quintessence rise as he passed by her, leaving through the open doors. They weren’t even closed before the Champion started screaming. _

Shiro’s shoulders sag. At least he’s holding still for Ulaz to finish. He will let the arm rest before he places the prosthetic back where it belongs. Shiro isn’t looking at him anymore, but his face is still red. Ulaz smells salt. Shiro’s cheeks are wet.

“Give me something, Ulaz. Please. I’m tired of being a ghost in my own head.”

Ulaz folds his hands in his lap. “You are one of the strongest men I have ever met. I witnessed very few of your battles, but I saw some of those scars when they were still fresh wounds. I was beyond astounded that a creature such as yourself lasted for one battle, much less the number you survived. I heard other prisoners in the pits, aliens you had never even fathomed before your capture, rally behind you. You weren’t just the Champion to the Galra, you were  _ their _ Champion too. You have been hurt and  forced to suffer, but you rose up again and again. You lost your arm, but you gained so much more that it doesn’t matter until your memory decides it does. To focus on the past now would be a disservice to the man you are now. Trust me when I tell you this, I cannot say more.”

“I...I do trust you,” Shiro’s voice is small. Ulaz wonders if he really believes that, wonders if his luck is truly running out. “I just…”

_ Ulaz saw Thace approaching, a routine perimeter check of the level he’d been assigned to. Ulaz wasn’t even supposed to be on this deck. It was no accident. _

_ “Lieutenant.” _

_ “Sir,” Thace replied. Their shoulders brushed when they passed. _

_ “It’s a good day for the empire.” _

_ A quick breath. “Until we meet again.” _

“I just want to know for myself.”

_ “As a fighter and a leader, you give hope.” _

“You will, Shiro. You will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me about Uliro and Voltron on my [tumblr](http://paladinpuppypile.tumblr.com)!


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